


jump in the deep end

by the_littlest_goblin



Series: we will lift you high [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fantasy Races, Ficlet, First Meetings, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 14:56:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20909504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_littlest_goblin/pseuds/the_littlest_goblin
Summary: A stranger just bailed Percy out of jail. It's not the weirdest thing that's ever happened to him, but it's definitely up there.





	jump in the deep end

**Author's Note:**

> An introduction of sorts to what will hopefully be many stories set in this au. Enjoy!

There are few worse places to spend an evening than a jail cell.

Percy occupied himself trying to think of some of them: gagged and bound at the bottom of the ocean would be rather terrible; or an underground tunnel with no light or sense of direction; the lair of some large and ferocious beast who did not take kindly to visitors; anywhere near his mother in the week leading up to the Winter’s Crest ball; the Winter’s Crest ball.

Thinking of his mother only returned Percy’s mind to his current predicament, imagining her intense disapproval if she knew what kind of trouble her third born had gotten himself into.

His legs were beginning to lose feeling after hours sitting on a hard metal bench, and his neck and shoulders ached. 

There was only one other occupant in this holding cell, who had joined him about an hour ago and whom he had ignored until now: a young woman, at least partially elven judging by the ear Percy could see poking through her curtain of red hair. Wearing an oversized “Save the Whales!” t-shirt tucked into a long, flowing skirt, she looked quite out of place. Almost as out of place as him, if not more so.

Immediately after coming to this conclusion, Percy realized his cell mate was looking back at him, a broad smile growing across her freckled face.

“I know you!” 

The eagerness with which she was staring at him was more than a little disconcerting. Oh Hells, was she on something? 

“I think you must be mistaken,” Percy said firmly. The last thing he wanted to deal with right then was a high hippie.

“No, I do! You’re in Professor Vysoren’s Post-Divergence political theory class.”

So perhaps she wasn’t high after all. Confused, Percy nodded his confirmation.

“I sit right behind you. You’ve probably never seen me, but I’d recognize that hair anywhere.” She held her hand out to him. “I’m Keyleth!”

“Percival.” He accepted the handshake, trying not to be bothered by her comment about his hair. Nearly a year since it turned white, and he was still unused to having such a recognizable feature. “You can call me Percy.”

“Percy,” Keyleth repeated, like she was committing it to memory. Dropping the handshake, she asked, “So, what are you here for?”

“Aren’t you not supposed to ask people that question in prison?” he dodged.

“Are you?” Keyleth’s face fell. “I’m sorry! I’ve just heard people say it in movies. It seemed like a good conversation starter.” She seemed genuinely distressed at her apparent faux pas. 

Percy couldn’t stop the small grin poking at the corners of his mouth. Despite his terrible mood and the strangeness of the situation, he found himself oddly charmed by this girl. 

“Trespassing,” he admitted, surprising both of them. “And you?”

“‘Public intoxication,’” said Keyleth. She put air quotes around the words and deepened her voice in what Percy assumed was an imitation of her arrester. “I’m not even that drunk!” Her volume suggested otherwise. “But they saw me trip over the bushes outside of a bar and got suspicious. It probably didn’t help that I’m technically underage.”

“Probably not,” Percy agreed.

“But that’s such bullshit! I’ve been drinking for years. The rules are different where I grew up.”

“Where’s that?” Normally, Percy would be trying to end this conversation as quickly as possible, rather than lengthen it. People like Keyleth usually irritated him, but he just felt entertained. And he could certainly use the distraction.

“Have you ever heard of the Ashari?”

Percy shook his head. “Can’t say that I have.”

“No one around here has,” Keyleth sulked. “There are a few different tribes. I’m from Zephrah?” Her voice pitched upward with hope that Percy may have heard of her hometown. She deflated when he shrugged, indicating his unfamiliarity.

“It doesn’t matter,” she sighed. Voice returning to its bright and cheerful tone, she continued, “Anyway. Where were you trespassing on to?”

And instantly, Percy regretted engaging with her. He was debating the relative merits of lying versus just refusing to answer, when the officer who had processed him returned from his desk. 

The stout, grumpy man pulled a magnetic key card from a lanyard on his belt as he approached the holding cell door. With his other hand, he pointed at Keyleth. 

“You. Ginger.” He swiped the card, unlatching the electronic lock, and swung the door open. “Your bail’s been paid.”

“Really?” Keyleth stood up. “Who—”

She stopped as two other figures came into view, stepping through the doorway between the public bullpen and the holding area. One man and one woman, also half-elves, and nearly identical to each other— twins, surely. The woman had her long, dark hair pulled into a braid hanging over her shoulder, whereas the man’s was tied in a knot at the top of his head. Both wore the kind of clothes one might expect from young, attractive people on a night out, which looked comically incongruous under the bright fluorescents of the police station.

“Come on, Kiki,” the man said. “Let’s get going.”

Keyleth looked touched. “You paid for my bail?”

“You _will_ be paying us back,” the woman insisted.

“Of course!” Keyleth beamed. “Aw, you guys!” She moved toward them, then hesitated, looking back at Percy. “Oh, um, bye Percy! Hope you… get out soon?”

Before Percy could respond, the woman spoke. “Who’s your friend?” she asked, eyeing him up and down.

“That’s Percy. He’s in one of my classes, but we just met.”

Percy lifted his hand in an awkward wave, not sure what else to do.

“Get a move on,” the guard interrupted, looking extremely uninterested in the proceedings. Keyleth shuffled out of the cell to stand beside the male twin.

The woman turned her attention toward the guard. She jerked her head in Percy’s direction. “How much for him?”

Percy was too dumbfounded by the implication of her words to be offended that she was referring to him like he were an old chair at a yard sale.

Her brother gave her an appalled and disbelieving look, but she ignored him, awaiting the answer.

“One hundred fifty gold,” the guard answered. The woman thought for a moment, then looked back at Percy, sizing him up. Then she turned back to the guard.

“Done,” she said. Her brother and Keyleth both wore matching shocked expressions, but surely neither of them could be more surprised than Percy. In the back of his mind, he wondered if he wasn’t imagining things. This wasn’t the first seemingly impossible thing to happen to him in the past twenty-four hours.

The guard looked rather alarmed as well. “I can’t just release him to you. There’s paperwork involved. Everything you just filled out for her,” he jerked a thumb at Keyleth, “you’ll have to do for him as well.”

“How about I add another fifty on top of that, and that paperwork takes care of itself?” the woman replied cooly. 

That decided it: Percy was definitely hallucinating. He must have hit his head when Ripley’s guards attacked him, or when the Emon police came to arrest him. None of this could actually be happening.

“This isn’t a negotiation,” the guard said, eyes narrowed and threatening. The woman met his glare dead on, and held it. Percy was certain he was about to get a new cellmate to replace his released one. Then the guard held out his hand wordlessly, and the woman pulled a worn leather wallet out of her cleavage. She counted out the bills impassively and handed them over. The guard pocketed the money and met Percy’s eyes with a smirk.

“See you at the hearing, kid,” he said, and waved for him to exit.

Utterly bewildered, Percy stood. He crossed the cell on unsteady legs, feeling like the floor was made of smoke that he could fall through at any moment. They all watched him as he did so: the guard, amused; the man, confused; Keyleth, cautiously pleased. The only expression Percy couldn’t read was his guardian angel’s. If he had to describe it, the best he could muster would be ‘appraising.’

Inmates freed, the male twin led their improbable group through the bullpen and out of the building, Keyleth chattering by his side. Percy made to wait for the woman, but she ushered him through the doorway ahead of her. He felt her gaze at his back with every move.

They stepped out into the fresh, evening air and continued on a few paces. Once a decent ways away from the police station, the twins stopped, the woman rejoining her brother’s side, and turned. Suddenly, Percy had three half-elven gazes upon him.

When none of them spoke first, he took initiative. “I suppose I should say thank you.”

“You should,” said the mysterious, stranger-freeing woman. 

“Not to sound ungrateful, but can I ask what motivated you to spend two hundred gold on someone you’ve never met?” he continued.

The woman crossed her arms. “That watch you’re wearing is worth at least twice that,” she said. “I assume you’re good for it.”

Of course. Nothing in life is free. And she was right about the expense of his watch, almost exactly, which was rather impressive.

Unbothered by her curt statement, bolstered by the surreality of this whole night, Percy undid the fastening on his watch and held it out to her.

“Repaid in full,” he said. And then some.

“You did hear me say _twice _as much?” the woman questioned, eyes wide. Despite her disbelief, she didn’t hesitate a moment in taking his payment. 

Percy shrugged. “Consider it a ‘thank you’ bonus.” Really, catching this unflappable woman off guard was more than worth it to him. And what was four hundred gold to a man mid-hallucination?

The woman secured Percy’s watch around her own wrist, though it was clearly too large for her. It slid down her arm as she reached an open hand out to him.

“Vex’ahlia,” she said. 

He accepted the shake. “Percival.”

Vex’ahlia tilted her head. “I prefer ‘Percy.’” She waved a hand in her twin’s direction. “That’s Vax. You already know Keyleth.” 

Both waved, Vax with a scowl, Keyleth with a beaming grin. Percy nodded at them.

“I’m curious,” he said, turning back to Vex’ahlia. “What would you have done if I refused to pay you back?”

“You wouldn’t have,” she said simply. 

Percy studied her. He had a feeling her surety was a bluff, but found no evidence to back it up. She had an impeccable poker face.

A shrill beeping broke the brief silence. Everyone’s gaze shifted to Vax as he pulled an outdated cell phone from his back pocket and read the notification. 

“The others are at The Diamond Nest,” he reported. “Fucking bastards.” He began typing out a reply.

Vex’ahlia turned back to Percy. “Care to join us? You look like you could use a drink.”

Percy chose not to be insulted by that, as it was probably accurate. He nodded, because why not? Getting drunk was the only reasonable way to end the day he’d had. This night couldn’t get weirder, and he was still eighty percent certain none of it was real, anyway.

They set off, the twins leading the way. No one was keeping an watchful eye on Percy any longer, but he followed them just the same.

Percy had never head of The Diamond Nest before. It was further away than he expected, and his feet ached by the time they finally arrived at a divey-looking establishment with a burnt-out neon sign. 

Inside, the bar was even dingier than its exterior suggested. Its patronage seemed to be mostly working people drinking away a long week, although there were what appeared to be a couple groups of braver college students milling about. At the bar, a lone half-orc filled drink after drink.

Vax glanced around the space, then beelined to a booth in the righthand corner. Sitting there already was a giant, grey-skinned Goliath man flanked by two gnomes, all chatting merrily over their drinks.

“You were supposed to wait for us,” Vax accused them as he slid into the booth, Keyleth following behind him.

“You were taking forever. Figured we'd scout ahead and snatch a table,” replied one of the gnomes, who wore an appallingly purple shirt with several buttons undone. His eyes fell on Percy. “Looks like you picked up a stray.”

“Vex saw him in the kennel and just couldn’t resist.”

Percy didn’t say anything against being compared to a dog. He was getting used to the implicit insults from this group. 

He slid into the seat next to Keyleth. Rather than joining as he expected, Vex’ahlia headed towards the bar.

“So, what’s your story, stranger?” the same gnome looked Percy up and down with interest.

Before he could answer, Keyleth spoke for him. “Percy was in jail with me. Vex and Vax bailed us both out.”

“_Vex_ bailed him out,” Vax corrected. “I’m still reserving judgement.”

_Vex and Vax?_ Percy thought to himself. Vex’ahlia hadn’t introduced herself with the nickname, so the nearness hadn’t occurred to him. _Sweet Pelor_.

“And then Percy gave Vex his watch, and now he’s here with us!” Keyleth finished her story with a pleased smile. “He’s also in one of my classes, so I know he’s not, like, a serial killer or anything.”

“You can never be sure,” piped up the other gnome, a soft-spoken, light-haired woman sipping from a glass almost as big as her head.

The Goliath nodded at her words as if they were wisdom from a sage. He fixed Percy with a scrutinizing stare.

“Are you a serial killer?” he asked. His voice was deep and deadly serious.

“…No,” said Percy.

The Goliath looked satisfied with that, as did the gnome woman.

“I’m Pike,” she addressed Percy. “This is Grog, and Scanlan.” She pointed in turn to the Goliath and the other gnome. Scanlan gave a sarcastic salute. Grog didn’t acknowledge him, focus now returned solely to his ale. He was drinking from an even bigger tankard than Pike’s— she or Scanlan could have probably sat in it comfortably. 

Vex returned with a tray of human-sized drinks, which she spread out among Vax, Keyleth, Percy, and herself. The colorful concoction she passed to Keyleth looked like it contained more sugar than alcohol. The rest were standard bottles of beer.

Percy twisted his open and took an experimental sip. It tasted foul, but he knew better than to say so, or to request something else. He didn’t have a wealth of experience making new friends, but he knew that much etiquette. And with this group, balking at cheap alcohol seemed likely to get him laughed out of the bar.

“I put it on your tab, Scanlan,” said Vex. Scanlan groaned, but didn’t protest, lifting his own, umbrella-adorned glass for another gulp.

Percy learned a lot of things that night. He learned that Keyleth’s cocktail was much stronger than it looked, as were the next three she ordered. He learned that Vex was very, _very _good at darts, and that her poker face extended to hustling. He learned that Grog was much less talented at darts. He learned that Pike worked as a nurse, which she told him as she produced a first aid kit out of nowhere to treat the small puncture in Keyleth’s arm (the consequence of one of Grog’s worse throws). He learned that Scanlan was an excellent singer, but also had terrible taste in karaoke songs. He learned that Vax could disappear without anyone noticing, and reappear just as stealthily, scaring the shit out of unsuspecting newcomers. He learned that crappy beer tastes better with every bottle you drink.

And when he woke up the next morning on an unfamiliar couch, with a splitting headache and no memory of how he’d gotten there, he checked his phone and learned that he’d been added to a group chat with six unfamiliar numbers_._

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how bail works.


End file.
